


Cocksure

by Northisnotup



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Genji Shimada is a Little Shit, Hanzo Shimada is a Little Shit, Innuendo, M/M, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Slash, Puns & Word Play, Shimada Brothers, Sibling Bonding, reading is fundamental
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-01
Updated: 2019-07-01
Packaged: 2020-05-31 16:37:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19429915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Northisnotup/pseuds/Northisnotup
Summary: Throwing shade is a Shimada brother tradition that Genji is only too happy to reinstate. With disastrous results, but in all fairness, he brings it on himself.





	Cocksure

**Author's Note:**

> No, YOU'RE avoiding your long fic!  
> Unbeta'd fic based on Crazy Ex-Girlfriend's 'Strip Away my Conscious.'
> 
> If you think you recognize some of the shade, its because I'm awful at thinking up insults and turned to The Library from Ru Paul's Drag Race for inspiration. 
> 
> A million thanks to Blacktofade, zawehzaweh and sanerontheinside for all the handholding and a special shout out to xombie ♡

With the wisdom that comes with age, Genji can and will freely admit that much of what comes to him, he brings on himself. Good and bad.

In his wild, spoiled youth he had understood the concept of actions having consequences as a vague and distant hypothetical, and certainly not something that applied to him personally.

Until, of course, it did.

Until a rather innocuous day in May, two months after burying his father when Genji faced his consequences intimately. And had them then become his constant companions for the next nine years.

Through Overwatch, through study, through contemplation of his place in the universe he is more familiar than ever of the weight his words and actions both have. The effect he leaves in the world.

It is a direct consequence of his actions, for instance, that his former idol and murderer, his brother, stands stiffly at his side. And, as it was his insistence on all sides that brought the man here, he is now roped into and stuck with playing tour guide, teacher and babysitter all in one.

It's all he deserves.

Genji breathes slowly through the impatience that makes him want to shift and fidget, contenting himself with flexing his inorganic 'feet' against the concrete floor. Today they're only to observe this training exercise, the rest of the roster being split and tasked with what amounts to a high tech game of tag. Ostensibly so Hanzo can learn the rhythms of the team he is to find a place in. (At the end of the probationary period that Genji did not ask for or agree with.) It takes two minutes for Hanzo to start critiquing them.

Not out loud, of course. But even after all these years, Genji can still read the expressions or reactions he can't or doesn't suppress.

"Come on." He relishes being able to speak his mother tongue so openly again. The few other Japanese agents in Blackwatch had conversed with him only when necessary, uneasy with his rage or background or both.

"What?"

"Say it. I can see you want to."

"My apologies. It is not my place." Hanzo's eyes fall to the floor, mouth thinning at what he took as a reprimand.

It's not that Hanzo's attitude isn't understandable. Genji has had over ten years to examine his feelings, to grow and to heal. Hanzo spent most of those same years chained to his guilt and regret, only for Genji to reveal himself as alive less than half a year ago. It is going to be a process. As Zenyatta is fond of saying 'Any progress is good progress.' Even just having Hanzo here is good progress!

But — oh, his guilty conscious is so, so draining to deal with.

"I'm asking you to. You have experience in seeking the holes in other's defences," Genji shrugs, and continues before Hanzo can take offence at the soft jab to their shared past. "it would be imprudent not to take advantage."

Ha! A practicality wrapped in a challenge. If anything of the brother Genji remembers is still there, he will not be able to resist.

Standing ramrod straight, his fists balled at his sides, Hanzo starts listing his impressions as if reporting to the elders.

Only two agents bothered to look up and make sure the rafters were empty. Mercy relies too much on her wings. Lúcio, while used to fighting in a group, cannot watch his six to save his life.

Clinical, straightforward, actionable observations.

Behind the safety of his faceplate, Genji pulls a face.

He wants, with sharp longing, the camaraderie they once shared, full of sly looks and borderline cruel whispers. The way Hanzo would breathe a cutting remark aimed at their cousins, instructors or the elders themselves and Genji would have to bite his tongue near in two to stop from laughing and revealing their game of inattention and mockery.

Lena darts past and Hanzo says "Agent Tracer relies too much on her accelerator and not enough on her own reflexes."

Genji takes his chance, scoffing just loud enough for his brother to hear, "Lena gets overconfident and starts jumping like a coked out rabbit, you mean."

It's enough for Hanzo to exhale a little heavily through his nose and Genji silently celebrates his victory waiting for the ball to be lobbed back at him. A jab at his past use, maybe. Or perhaps the focus will stay on Lena, the gods know she's never gotten wilder than a vodka redbull on a Saturday night.

It doesn't come.

But Hanzo's shoulders have relaxed the tiniest bit and Genji will take what he can get.

Soldier 76 — Jack Morrison that rotten fucking liar —barrels past them, marking and dismissing them as non-combatants only to get 'tagged' his vest lighting up blue, by Hana who is surprisingly stealthy without her mech.

"I think Morrison is only still here because he is too genetically modified to be allowed back on a farm."

Hanzo turns his head and coughs, not fast enough to hide the smile that curls at the corner of his mouth.

Point!

"What kind of farm was it?" Hanzo shifts just millimeters closer and it's only Genji's familiarity with this game that allows him to catch it.

"Corn, as if that is any surprise."

"Hm, I would have guessed beef, based on the evidence."

In front of them, Morrison lunges forward around partial cover to better aim.

Genji sucks a slow, even breath, starving the laughter that wants to seize his lungs. Point to Hanzo.

As they trade barbs back and forth, Genji is surprised, then ashamed of his surprise when Hanzo follows his lead and avoids topics that previously, would have been ripe for the picking. Mei rushes past, pausing for just a second to wave at them with a mitten covered hand before she mercilessly divides the playing field with her ice walls.

A chorus of groans follow, Red team calling foul and Blue team calling poor sport.

In the conspicuous silence that stretches Genji can't help but push. "Nothing?"

"We stop reading children's books as we grow," Hanzo smirks, "because they become too easy."

Genji clicks his tongue against his palate, glad again for the faceplate that hides his expression. "Mei is also too nice to target." He knows she's shared her tea with Hanzo, if only because he was the one who shared with her Hanzo's appriciation for the deep, black tea's she prefers. (Though what the two of them talk about, if anything, during their tea parties, Genji has no idea. Still — it's wonderful to have another person to point his brother at when Genji gets annoyed with him.)

"She is too _something_." He says distractedly, brows drawn together and Genji follows his sharp gaze across the practice room to where McCree ducks around another patch of cover to reload.

Genji rolls his eyes.

Both McCree and Angela have been absolutely ridiculous about his brother's presence. Angela refuses to speak to him beyond her professional capacities, and she avoids being near him whenever possible. Behaviour which Hanzo, of course, thinks is perfectly rational. (Even complimenting them on their judgment of character. Gods.)

McCree takes a different approach. Sits with them, looming, whenever Genji can convince Hanzo to join them for meals, (Not often, as Angela will not sit with him when Hanzo is present) making pointed comments, and backhanded compliments. He shadows them, just obvious enough to be insulting and is always at the practice range when Hanzo is, showing off his deadly aim. Just like he is now, 'reloading' and rolling from one piece of cover to another.

Aim, aim, aim…line 'em up and —

Blue, blue, blue, lights going off, Athena announcing Red Team's victory in this bout and ending the practice, both teams having secured a victory.

McCree stands, brushing dust from his chaps and Genji watches Hanzo's eyes follow the movement.

No.

No!

Oh, this is too good.

He sways just close enough to nudge at Hanzo's elbow with his own. "The water fountains are over there, brother."

"Why?" Hanzo doesn't look away from where McCree stands with an arm around Angela and Fareeha each, chest puffed out with victory.

Genji tenses his legs incase he needs to dodge. "You're looking a bit thirsty, is all."

Shooting him a quick look of stunned offence, Hanzo turns his eyes back to McCree, now removing his vest and, aware of the eyes on him, peacocking with the twirl of his laser gun, his other hand resting casually on Peacekeeper in her holster.

There is just enough time for Genji to feel a sense of impending doom as Hanzo leans close to whisper, in damning English "It's as though he wants me to choke on his cocksuredness." Emphasizing the lewd turn of phrase for Genji's benefit. Genji…breaks. Loses their game absolutely as he lets out a howl of exaggerated disgust. The fans and vents along his spine beginning to cycle coolant through his core as he flushes with equal parts outrage and delight.

"You're right," Hanzo continues, smirking as though he isn't murdering his brother a second time. "as if I would choke."

"Get out! Leave! I have no brother anymore!" He shouts, forgetting himself and smacking Hanzo's arm playfully, shoving at him until he walks away with his own bark of laughter, rusty and sharp with disuse.

"Go to jail!" He yells at Hanzo's retreating back, reaching up to unclip his mask and allow fresh air at his hot cheeks.

"Genji? Are you okay?" Angela lands next to him, beautiful features pinched with worry. "What did he say to you?"

"Nothing, it's fine." Genji waves her off, sucking in desperate lung fulls of air to try and stay upright and not collapse with laughter.

"Didn't sound fine," McCree says, dragging his spurs across the concrete the way he does when he's pissed off and doesn't care who knows. "You told him to get out."

"It was a joke." Genji tries, caught out. The very last thing he wants to do is explain. "A bad joke, but—"

"About me?" McCree scowls, and Genji winces before he remembers his reactions are uncovered for all to see.

Angela shifts, frowning. "Genji, being unsociable is...fine, but if he is threatening another agent I feel we must—"

"He was not threatening anyone!"

"So you won't mind Athena lettin' us know then." McCree smirks, crossing his arms over his barrel chest.

Fuck.

"It…he…has a unique sense of humor." He sighs, throwing his brother neatly under the bus and refusing to admit that they share that sense of humor.

It's not any less obscene (or any less funny) in repetition but at least there is no possible way something like that could be taken as a threat.

"Oh!" Angela covers her mouth with a hand, her cheeks flushing well beyond the healthy glow of exercise while McCree hums, eyebrows arching toward the brim of his hat as he licks his lips and casts a considering glance towards the door.

Uh. No.

No, no, no!

"Absolutely not. Do not even think about it. My brother is off limits, McCree." Genji tries to sound as stern as he can. The very last thing they need is a brokenhearted cowboy haunting the halls after his brother inevitably fucks up.

Cunning and strong, Hanzo has always been. With the emotional IQ of a gnat.

"I wasn't thinking about it." McCree lies, still casting glances at the doorway. "Even if I was, you ain't your brother's keeper."

"You don't even like him!" Genji says at the same time Angela's chastising "Jesse!"

"So I'd have to strip away my conscious a little." McCree leers, adding a salacious wink when Genji groans.

"Stop."

"Peel off my values."

"I hate you."

"Think I could get him to unzip my morals with his teeth?"

"You deserve each other!" It does nothing but Genji still gets some satisfaction from covering his ears with his hands.

McCree laughs and throws heavy arm, the metal one, around Genji's shoulders. "Relax, Genj. It's just a joke, right?"

"If he kills you, no one will mourn." Genji scowls, crossing his arms over his chest, trying not to feel like he's opened a Pandora's Box. 

Angela shares a commiserating glance. Well. If Hanzo does kill him, Genji at least has one witness who heard him say it was a bad idea.


End file.
